Mr Daniels

This is my first story... Be gentle. Any reviews would be much appreciated.

You know that your obsession with your teacher is getting unhealthy when you can't even get through maths class without getting turned on.

I sat in the back corner, as usual, with my legs tightly crossed and a slightly dreamy look on my face. Mr Daniels was explaining some aspect of calculus in great detail, but I wasn't getting a word of it. I was focused on the deep, rough cadence of his voice, the broadness of his shoulders as he wrote on the board. The enticing movement of muscles beneath his collared shirt. I squeezed my legs together a little tighter, aware that my panties were becoming more and more soaked. I bit my lip.

Mr Daniels turned his head, asking a question which I had completely missed. His dark eyes swept the room, looking for an answer. He caught my dreamy expression, raising his eyebrows slightly before moving on to acknowledge the girl in the front row with the correct answer. I blushed and got back to writing. This was getting ridiculous. Luckily, this was my last term of high school left, then I'd be able to escape this torment which had become more and more obvious over my high school years.

The bell rang fifteen minutes later, and I left hastily, hoping for a few minutes alone in the bathroom to relieve my frustration. It was stupid, and sad, I realised, to settle for pleasuring myself in a bathroom stall. But I had no choice. Maybe I needed a boyfriend. But no boy my age interested me like Mr Daniels did.

I burst into the bathroom, and almost ran into someone.
'Oh, sorry...' I recognised the woman. Mrs Daniels. I cast my eyes downwards and blushed a bit. If she knew the way I felt about her husband...
'That's fine, Emily.' She left me alone in the bathroom. Mrs Daniels was an english teacher. I hated seeing her around; luckily she wasn't one of my teachers. It just made me more frustrated. She was tall and very, very thin. Model thin, with dark hair. I looked into the bathroom mirror, comparing. I was pretty short, about 5'2', with strawberry blonde hair, my favourite feature. I wasn't fat, not even chubby, but I had curves that obviously wouldn't appeal to Mr Daniels, not with his wife the shape she was. I had large breasts, their D cups made me self-conscious since they blossomed two years ago. My wide set blue eyes and pale skin was another stark contrast to Mrs Daniels' dark beauty. The bell rang. I turned away from the mirror, giving up. I had to get to class.

'So, Em, my parents are out for the weekend. I'm having a few people to my place tonight. A bit of fun, some drinks... you in?' My best friend Jessica looked at me hopefully, a smile on her face. 'Girls only.' She added.
'Sure!' I needed the distraction. If I didn't get out, I found myself spending more and more time reading cheap romance novels and feeling sorry for myself.


I arrived at Jessica's house at about eight o'clock, and the fun had already started. Jess had gotten into her parent's liquor cabinet, and she and the two other guests, Sally and Alexis, greeted me loudly, hugging me and thrusting a glass into my hand. This was going to be a good night.

We decided on a pajama party. I felt slightly self conscious next to Jessica's athletic build, and Alexis' ballerina body. Not even Kelly had the same obvious curves as I did. Nevertheless, we all got dressed in boxers and singlets, making popcorn and squishing onto Jess's bed to watch a movie. Afterwards, we just lay around and talked. Mostly about boys. The others were sharing detailed descriptions about their sexual escapades, while I just listened in silence. I was the only one of the girls to have had no serious boyfriend.

'You're seventeen, Emily! Its about time that you get your claws into some poor, unsuspecting guy.' Jess's words were abrupt, and I mumbled, blushing. There was no way I could tell them why I wasn't interested in any of out high school friends.
The conversation went on, and with each drink my head got lighter, and I got more vocal. I was giggling and laughing with the others, and agreed wholeheartedly when they suggested we go online and send some emails to prospective 'victims', as Jessica called them. She decided it was her duty to find me a boyfriend. I signed into my email account, and Alexis trawled through my contacts. She frowned.

'Uh, why do you have Mrs. Johnson's email address?' Jess was the one that answered.
'I bet little Emily has all of the teacher's email addresses. Probably likes to ask for extra work, the nerd.'
I blushed, denying it. But I did have all my teacher's emails, so I could ask for help on assignments. I didn't mention that, though.
We spent the next half hour trawling through my contacts. Jess decided that I should get together with Rob, a guy in my English class. He was a jock, and not bad looking. I didn't even read the suggestive email she sent him, I was too drunk to really care. After that, we played truth. A kids game, sure, but we had no trouble asking each other the raunchiest questions we could think of. I was asked to tell the girls about my most secret fantasy. After all the real life experiences the others had mentioned, this seemed pretty tame. For the first time, I talked about my little crush. The words just came tumbling out, and before long, my secret was out. When I mentioned the object of my admiration, Mr Daniels, the other girls nodded in appreciation, agreeing that the guy was hot, for a teacher. My inhibitions gone, I told them everything.

I didn't notice that in the corner, Jess still had her laptop out, logged onto my email, and was typing as I confessed my secret.
We fell asleep soon afterwards.

The morning was brutal. My hangover was not helped by Jess's fifteen year old brother, who woke us all up at nine with his damn guitar playing. We lay in bed for a while, moaning. Suddenly Jess started laughing. She opened the laptop.
'Uh, Emily. I think I should tell you about something... You are not going to like it.... Remember, hon, I was really drunk last night, so don't get too mad.'
'What?' I reached for the laptop, which was opened to sent items on my email account. Number one on that list was Mr Daniels. Jess had sent something to Mr Daniels. My eyes widened, heart beating faster. I clicked on the email. Jess was laughing harder, telling me that it was probably for the best, that it is unhealthy to keep these sorts of feelings bottled up. The words I read were directly out of my confession last night, even though I could only remember them through the haze of drunkenness.

Dear Mr Daniels,
I fantasize about you in maths class. I watch you writing on the blackboard, and imagine you pinning me against it. The way the muscles in your back would move as you pressed against me, holding me up. I think about your voice, and the way it would sound as your told me I was a bad girl who needed to be punished. I want you more than any little boy in high school; I want you to take control and show me how to please you. Just thinking about it makes me so wet.
Your devoted student,
Emily.

Fuck.